Miss Wayne & the Queens of D.C. (Book 3 in the Black & Ugly Series)

by T. Styles

  “What I tell you about runnin’ ‘round here like a fuckin’ girl?” He frowned down at Wayne, unmoved by the blood that fell from his mouth…dampened his white shirt and glistened against the shiny hardwood floors. “You a boy and I ain’t raisin’ no bitches!”

  Although his father had warned him about what he deemed as ‘actin’ like a girl’ he’d never…ever…hit him until that moment. His extra light-skin and eyes were just like Wayne’s and before the alcohol abuse, compliments of the Gulf war, he was very handsome. But like a lot of soldiers, when times got hard, his looks took a toll.

  “I’m sorry.” Wayne whined. “I was just dancin’, daddy. I didn’t mean to act like a girl. Really.”

  “Sorry ain’t good enough! You got my Daddy’s name and you runnin’ ‘round here like a fuckin’ sissy!” He clenched his fist again preparing to beat the life out of his only child.

  Wayne was picking himself up off the floor and then he heard, “Now…I know that ain’t my boy down there on the floor. I know that’s not what I’m seein’.”

  When Bells and Wayne looked in the direction of the voice, they saw Marbel Peterson. Standing in her room’s doorway might’ve seemed ordinary for some but for a woman who suffered with MS most of her life, this was a magnificent feat.

  “Baby?” Bells said with slight fright in his voice. “What…I mean…how did you get up out of bed on your own?”

  “You ain’t hearin’ me. Was that my chile lyin’ on that floor? Please tell me you didn’t place hands on my chile!”

  Even though the disease had entrapped her muscles, it didn’t take away her beauty. She was still strikingly beautiful with her deer eyes and beautiful dark skin.

  Bells took a deep breath, broadened his shoulders and said, “Yeah I taught him a lesson. ‘Cause it’s obvious that since I’ve been gone, things have gotten out of control ‘round here! This boy act like he don’t know he got balls ‘tween his legs!”

  “That’s what you call it when you hit a chile? Teachin’ him a lesson?”

  “Sure I do! If he’s gonna be a man, he’s gonna have to act like one. A real man takes care of his family, not act all feminine so somebody can take care of him. Now I’m raisin’ men ‘round here! ‘Specially the ones that got my dead daddy’s name!”

  “And I told you before he ain’t actin’ like no girl! He actin’ like our son! Just ‘cause he different don’t give you no reason to hurt him.”

  For lack of a better argument he said, “I’m the man of this house and you’ll do as I say, woman! Both of you!”

  “Is that right?” she smirked.

  “That’s mothafuckin’ right! I pay the bills in this bitch and I demand respect! Now if you can’t fix it to see things my way, then there’s the door!”

  Marbel smiled a little. Then she pushed the strength of her body away from the doorway and further into the hallway. She was on her way to him.

  “Mama, be careful!” Wayne said running by her side to offer his assistance.

  “Move out the way, boy. I gots to address my husband and I gots to address him right now. And for what I’m about to say, I need to look into his eyes so he knows I’m not messin’ around.”

  Wayne never saw such power in his mother until that moment. Further and further she scooted down the hallway, leaning on the wall for support. When she made it to Bells, the confidence he possessed when he first came through the door had slightly diminished. He knew it took little masculinity to come into the house and hit a child, but it took courage, strength and love to move a body that refused to budge without help for over a year.

  “Now you hear me and hear me good.” She said in his face. “We ain’t hittin’ kids in this house and we not makin’ them feel bad for who they is either. Now that’s my only son,” she pointed at Wayne, “and I loves him…in all his splendor. Now if you’s ashame of him, go on…go back out that door yourself. But me, I’m stayin’ right here.” With that she reached in her cotton robe, flicked a knife and held it against his thin chin. “But you betta neva…eva…put your hands on my son again. Understood?”

  He nodded ever so slightly to avoid the slash.

  “Great. We understand one another.” She said tucking the knife back into her pocket. “Now welcome home and help me back to bed.”

  Mr. Husband Material

  Queen Tyrone

  Adrian and me are in the house chillin’ and surfin' the net in the three-bedroom townhouse on Galveston Street in Southeast DC that Dayshawn rented. I didn’t live here at first, until five months after he bought it, he was havin’ problems payin’ the rent. From then on I’ve been here to help him out. Although we live deep in the fuckin’ hood, if you ask me, I don’t want to be no place else.

  Wearin’ black tight shorts and a powder blue baby T, I know I’m killin’ it right now. And once I shave the hair off my face, biiiiitttttcchhh, you won’t be able to tell me nothin’! All I need now is some dick and some smoke and I’ll be good.

  Miss bitch-face Adrian over here is wearin’ grey sweats and a plain white T-shirt and I laugh. Lookin’ at Adrian is like lookin’ at a girl. His light brown skin and soft curly hair sits stupidly on his head and I feel sorry for him. I mean…if a man wants to fuck a nigga who looks like a bitch, he’d be with a girl. I’m not hatin’. I’m just statin’.

  I will give him credit for one thing, he owns more diamonds than most girls would get in their whole lives. Last time he had it appraised, it went for about ten thousand dollars, and he didn’t leave the house without his diamond heart shaped necklace, bracelet and ring.

  On anotha level…lately I have been havin’ so much on my fuckin’ mind. Shit most people don’t have to worry about. I’m a gay man, in my early thirties, and the only thing I care about is getting fucked or fuckin’ someone. I’m not talkin’ about sometimes either. It’s an obsession with me. Like if I can’t have it, I’ma die! I done fucked everybody from my son’s bus driver to my wife Shannon’s brother. I know it’s fucked up, but it is what it is and to be truthful, I could care fuckin’ less what you or anybody else thinks.

  I’m a queen.

  I’m a mother of the House of Dreams.

  And I’m fabulous in all ways.

  And while your minds’ are workin’ overtime, let me put them to rest…yes I did say I have a son and a wife. But she was what we gay men called a beard. Because being with her was like wearing a beard in public…she was someone I could pretend to be in a heterosexual relationship with for everyone else’s sake.

  I guess now you’re wonderin’ how is it possible for me to have a thirteen-year old son and be a gay man. I didn’t always hate pussy. I fucked my wife and came inside of her just like the next man.

  My wife and I, who I’m still married to, on paper anyway, are no longer together. When it was good it was good but after a while it just lost its flavor. She was my first. My first sexual experience in high school. My first girlfriend and the first person who taught me that there was nothin’ more I liked, than to be fucked in my ass.

  Shit, Shannon was handy with her mother’s rubber dicky, which she found one day while lookin’ for money in her room. Shannon’s a bigger freak than me. And if her mother knew how much mileage that dildo had on it and how many times it had been in my ass, she probably would’ve performed an exorcism on it and burned at the stake. Yeah…back then things were simple. I was a bisexual man who loved fuckin’ both men and women. That is, until one day the look of her pussy made me jealous. I remember lookin’ at the way she moaned and saying to myself, ‘I wish someone could make me feel like this. I wish someone could make me feel safe and hold me in his arms.’ So I went out to find the real thing.

  The day she discovered where my heart really lied, my son was born and I wasn’t by her side. So the next day she got out of her hospital bed, left our son at the hospital nursery and came lookin’ for me. It took a while but she found me, cruisin’ for trade at a public park. I was faced down on wet green grass, with the tra
de’s fingers in my mouth and his dick in my ass. Bareback…no condoms! The way I like it.

  Instead of takin’ that as my out of the relationship, I felt guilty and asked her to be my wife. Only to realize a week afterwards that I couldn’t be married and faithful at the same time. Through it all she could never bring herself to say, ‘I want a divorce’, and I doubt she ever will.

  While waitin’ on Adrian to pull up a website, someone knocks on the front door. It wasn’t a surprise because people come over this bitch uninvited all the time.

  When I open the door, my friend Gary who prefers to be called Garisha is standing before me wearing a red summer dress and tennis shoes. After all this time, I still can’t get over how ugly she is! This queen is uglier than two Bernie Mac’s put together. Large pussy bumps ‘round out her face and all I can say is that it’s truly a sight to see. The worst part is, she has pushed so much silicone in her face, that she’s starting to look like a lion. It’s a mess.

  “Bitch, I need to use your bathroom,” Garisha asked busting into the door. “I just met this trade on the way over here!”

  Although irritating most of the time, I fucked with him because he was the only person I knew more gutter than me. We did shit together so cruddy that I’d have to kill somebody if they ever found out. Including fuckin’ this 16-year-old boy after he came home from football practice one day. He use to come ‘round Galveston all the time to smoke and drink our shit up. But one day he started flirtin’ and tellin’ me, Garisha and Big Boody Brandy that we couldn’t handle him…and how he would fuck the shit out of this and that.

  As usual, we got drunk but this time decided to go to a hotel to finish the party. Big Boody Brandy had a date so she didn’t go with us, but that ain’t stop me and Garisha. The young boy was all game when we was suckin’ his ass and lettin’ him fuck us all night. But I guess he got mad when me and Garisha turned his young ass around and broke his back out. If you ask me I think he liked it but just like most ‘so called straight men’ who think about shit too much the next morning, he was afraid someone would find out and threatened to cry rape. When we found that shit out me and Garisha put on men’s clothes and waited for him after school. The moment we caught him alone we beat him to death and buried his body at Anacostia Park. That was six months ago and they haven’t found his body yet.

  “Why you gotta use our bathroom, Garisha?” I frown. “I mean…what’s wrong with your place? Or the street?”

  “I need to freshen up! Bitch, you know I live all the way off 58th!”

  “Well I’m busy right now so you can’t stay long.” I say closing the door. “Where ya’ll goin’ anyway?”

  “Where you think? I’m goin’ somewhere to get some dick! But I gotta douch my bussy first!” he says referring to his asshole. “And I know you not actin’ all different! Wit’ all the mothafuckas I let in my house for you!”

  “Bitch, I don’t need a history lesson Just hurry the fuck up!”

  When I’m walk back to Adrian, Garisha runs to the bathroom and yells, “I need a washcloth!”

  “Girrrrllll…what is you givin’ right now?!” I scream. “Ain’t nobody got no time for all that shit! Use a sock!”

  “A sock?!” He yells walking back into the living room. “But I need it to clean my girl!”

  “Bitch, either use a sock or use your hand. Your choice.”

  Garisha sits on the sofa, removes his tennis shoe and then his sock. Mind you I said he’s wearing a summer dress. So you already know what he’s givin’.

  “You gonna need me for somethin’ else one day! Rememba this shit!”

  “Girl, bye!” I say fanning her off.

  When she walks to the bathroom, I focus back on Adrian at the computer.

  “Have you found his page yet?” I ask.

  “Nope. I can’t find it. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  “You sure you puttin’ in the right stuff?”

  “Yes. I’m puttin’ in the right information.”

  “Well why isn’t his picture comin’ up?” I ask lookin’ down at Adrian while he supposedly keys in MrHusbandMaterial’s screen name in the searchable window on the gay website, AllTheWayOpen.com.

  He pauses and says, “I’m not sure. You think he blocked you? I say that only because you said he didn’t think you looked like the picture you posted on the site when he met you last week.”

  As I look down at Adrian I grow angry. Fuck is he tryin’ to say? I posted my real picture on that site, even if it was taken in the ninth grade.

  “Girl just try it again! Ain’t nobody tryin’ to hear all that shit you drippin!”

  While I’m lookin’ at the computer screen, the TV which is playin’ the news is featuring The Drag Queen Slayer story again. Apparently some fool is runnin’ ‘round DC killin’ queens. When he’s done, he usually cuts off a part of their body and eats it.

  “I’m done,” Garisha says walking into the living room. “Thanks for nothin’!”

  I smell something so nasty lingering in the air that I can’t believe it came from his body.

  “Please tell me you just took a shit too.” I say covering my nose.

  “Girl, what are you talkin’ about?” He asks rummaging through his purse.

  “All I know is I smell somethin’ and it don’t smell like soap! And if you ain’t just shit, somethin’ crawled up in your ass and died.”

  Adrian turns his nose up and say, “Girl you do smell a little foul.”

  “Shut up, bitch face! Always hatin’ on a grown ass woman! I’m out of here! I’ll call you later, girl.” He says walking out the door.

  I shake my head, turn the air conditioning on to get rid of the smell and lock the front door. Garisha’s ass got somethin’ and she betta go get it checked out before her dick falls off!

  Adrian refocuses on the news and says, “You think they gonna catch him?”

  “Don’t worry about all that…did you find him yet?” I pause lookin’ down at him.

  “Not yet. I’m gonna log in with my account though. Maybe it’ll work now.”

  As he logs out of my account and into his, I think about some things. Like how I wished I would’ve stayed in school and got an education. I sucked a few dicks to get my homework done and even found ways to get my tests completed. With my smart ass, I went all the way up to the ninth grade without being able to read word one. If I could, I would be keyin’ in the info on the site myself. But as it stands, I can barely read my name on paper if I saw it. When a teacher found out I was illiterate in school and I couldn’t bribe him with sex, I dropped out in the 9th grade. I guess you could say I haven’t looked back since.

  “Give me his screen name again.” He says sneezing.

  “Uggh! Cover your nose!!” I scream. “You know I hate snot and shit! Be careful!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “His screen name is MrHusbandMaterial.” I frown.

  The moment he searches for his name under his account, his picture comes up. I spent two months talkin’ to this nigga on the phone before we finally got together. And now he wants to play me? You know what, if he don’t want this bussy, fuck him! I’ll get a new nigga in the morning.

  “You okay?” He asks.

  “Why wouldn’t I be? I ain’t trippin’ off no trade.”

  “You sure?”

  “Look…don’t piss me off, Aid! You know how that can be. Anyway ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ me so I ain’t hardly worryin’ about one nigga. His dick was trash anyway. All I got to do is make a phone call and I’m set.”

  As I’m walking into the living room, I see Adrian staring at me.

  “What now?!”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “About what?” I ask with an attitude.

  “You have beautiful dark skin, yet you wear make-up a little lighter than your complexion. And…sometimes you should wear a full wig until your hair grows out.”

  “What’s wrong wit’ my hair?”

  “U
mmm…well…I don’t like when you braid your natural hair and wear it out without combing it or anything. It sticks up in the air and kinda makes you look…messy.”

  “You really think you got it over me don’t you?”

  “I’m not sayin’ that…I just really care about you.”

  “Honey…you just do you, and I’ma do me!”

  As I walk to the living room and sit down, I down the vodka on the table and pour me another glass. Since I’m not gettin’ no dick I know immediately what I need is to get high.

  “And call, Big Boody Brandy over here to bring me some smoke!” I tell him.

  Big Boody Brandy was another queen I ran with from time to time. Everybody used her to get their drugs because she made drop offs and ran shit around Galveston. Her name is Brandon Bar but like most queens, she changed it up a little to suit the lifestyle. Brandy knew a lot of shit about me that I wish she didn’t. For instance, she was the one who knew that me and Garisha was the last ones with that football player before we killed him. And to tell you the truth, I hate that she has that over me.

  “I ain’t got no money, Ty.” Adrian tells me. “You have any to give her when she comes?”

  “Ya’ll ain’t never got shit on the package but always wanna smoke.”

  “I gave the rest of my money to Chris.”

  “How come you stay givin’ Chris money but he don’t give you shit? I mean, if ya’ll are so good friends he should look out for you sometimes too.”

  “He’s my best friend, Ty. And he does looks out for me sometimes. But my cell phone is in his name and I didn’t want him having to pay for it.”

  “Yeah…well…whatever! You just better not be tellin’ him none of my business. I told you he know Shannon. So if I find out you been tellin’ him any of my business and I can’t see my son, I’ma be fucked up with you and you gonna know.”

  Even though I didn’t see my son Avil a lot, I don’t want no problems in case I want to.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he says looking all stupid and shit. “Whatever goes on in here stays in here.”

  “Yeah whateva. And just so you know when Big Boody Brandy brings me my shit, it’s all mine. Don’t ask for shit! Go ahead and call her…tell her I need a fifty bag of weed.”